


Kingdom of Dust

by WHUMPBBY



Category: Thundercats (2011)
Genre: ? - Freeform, A messed up AU, Dubious Consent, Furry, M/M, Multi, Size Difference, Tygra suffered his share, also sex, and his servants, but i'm mostly using it for porn, does it count as, even tho he's adopted?, listen the OCs are Tygra's kids, possible incest, read the notes to understand this verse's deal, specie-ism?, super sketchy consent due to servitude, there's plot to it, this has a potential to get dark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-06-11 02:00:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15304953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WHUMPBBY/pseuds/WHUMPBBY
Summary: Somewhere deep inside he was disgusted with himself for the way he so quickly got used to the shallows of the ruler’s life. From the youngest years he was taught by all his teachers to be honourable and self-sufficient. That there was a place for being catered to, of course, but that there was also a line one should not cross. As far as he could remember his father had never allowed anyone to bathe him.Well, his father hasn't been stuck on a space station for three months straight, gathering grime and injuries, sometimes running for three days without a bit of sleep, sustained on tasteless rations and stale water. Tygra has.After that, having someone's soft hands wash his hair and take care of his clothes didn't seem like a luxury at all. It felt like he’s earned it. It was a bit of care that he wouldn't get anywhere else. Not anymore.





	Kingdom of Dust

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, just to explain the verse, because this is NOT in any way following the plot of the cartoon past 1 or maybe 2 first episodes. 
> 
> The basic premise is that Mum-Rah's people don't attack the palace and the Royal Family openly like in the series. Instead of a full frontal assault, Mum-Rah - knowing that he can't wield the Sword of Omens - decides to strike a bargain with Tygra - after being told by Grune that the older prince is more ambitious and likely to see reason, and on the account of the fact that the tigers were faithful to him in the past. The deal is that Tygra will be allowed to be the King of Thundera, his descendants will rule the planet, and his family will be safe, as long as he willingly gives Mum-Rah the jewel form the sword. Otherwise, a bloody massacre will destroy everyone and everything that he holds dear. Faced with the horrifying technological advancement of the enemy and the fact that Grune sided with them already, Tygra has no choice. He agrees to strike the contract to keep his family alive - he may be an asshole to Lion-O, but he does love him. And still, he doesn't believe that the consequences of the bargain to be as horrific as they'll turn out to be.
> 
> Lion-O's trial never comes to pass. Mum-Rah's plan was to get rid of ALL the cats from Thundera and scorch the ground. He honours his deal with Tygra to the letter - making him a king of an empty planet. And since Tygra's real family is already dead, Claudius gets the axe and Lion-O is almost done in, too - except Tygra manages to beg off his life from Mum-Rah by swearing fealty to the warlord and a binding oath that none of his blood will ever raise against him. 
> 
> Lion-O's life is saved, but in an attempt to trip the prophecy, Mum-Rah makes sure that he will be unable to ever wield the Sword of Omens by crippling him.   
> Years pass, Mum-Rah populates Thundera with different species from other conquered planets (some lizards, some birds, but mostly humans - small, weak and primitive enough that Mum-Rah isn't afraid of them) and Tygra fights for him as a general, Lion-O stays on the ground and manages the growing kingdom.
> 
> However, since there's no other cats apart form them and the promise of 'descendants' still has to be upheld, Mum-Rah's scientists managed to clone the children from the brother's blood. It's a long and ardours process with many, many, many, false starts (since the brothers are actually, when we go down to it, different species) and tragically broken hopes, a handful of cubs managed to survive. Since both 'fathers' were male, producing girls was a struggle (it's magical genetics, don't think about it;0) and it was all generally a big mess.
> 
> Now, Tygra is in his middle thirties (I'm assuming cats age slower than humans?) his kingdom is more or less prospering (I'm thinking Mesopotamia/Ancient Egypt level of economy and technology with a bit of space travel and magitek sprinkled around the palace and royal family) and he's super jaded by his role. Enjoy.
> 
> Side note: Humans on Thundera treat cats as pretty much gods. Humans are smaller than them - about 2 feet of difference more or less on average, - weaker, live shorter and are awed by the technology the King as at his disposal. Tygra IS trying to rule his subject fairly and humans have a bit of a soft spot with him, as they've been resettled across space, are generally harmless to him and aren't fucking lizards=_=   
> Also, I'm digging into animalistic parts of the cats a bit more here, just to make it ever weirder;]

It was night when his ship finally landed on the strip of bare land outside of the palace.  Tygra was glad for the late hour, since the only people awake at this time would be servants he could easily dismiss. His temper was already short and his nerves on edge, meeting any of his courtiers would only serve to annoy him more. Pain always put him into the worst mood.  

The eye was healing - that's what the doctors on the mothership told him, - it was healing fast, but that was all they could give him. There was no way to heal a wound in one night. Oh well,  the eyepatch wasn't looking that bad, maybe he will keep it. It sure made him look even more intimidating - not that he needed it of course, but there were so very few times in recent years where he was allowed to feel vain. 

The crew was silent when he calmly praised the landing and ordered them to disperse for the night, they knew not to try conversation now. They were his oldest, most trusted soldiers and knew how to read his moods, so this time they just saluted sharply and let him leave.  

Sometimes he wished they would try to talk to him, he missed the banter, the companionship...  But they were his subordinates not his friends and they were afraid of him anyway. 

Everyone was afraid of him and within good reason. 

The wound over his right eye ached as he crossed the hangar, passing by the crew and technicians without a second glance. It wasn't that serious even, just a lucky swipe of an elongated claw Tygra was too slow to dodge. It happened sometimes,  he was not perfect. But only once. It won't happen again. 

The palace was silent when he stepped through the gates held open by a pair of guards. He could smell their tension as he passed, feel their eyes trailing after him, and had to stifle an instinct telling him to kill them. They were the strongest and biggest out of their species, the most skilled, they fought for their position in Royal Guard… but they were still weaker than the weakest of his family…

Well, no, not the weakest. Not anymore. 

But that didn't change the fact that their presence ate at him and made his instincts flare up whenever he thought of the disgrace of having descendents of rats walk the halls of his forefathers’ ancient home. He fought these thoughts whenever they appeared. It would not do for a king to freely murder his subjects. Not that often, at least, their lives were short enough as it was. 

He stopped in the hall in front of the doors to his chambers when a familiar smell hit his nose. He breathed a weary sigh. He hoped for a night of sleep before having to deal with the household.

“Sire,” the voice was soft and calm, low enough to carry easily in the still silence around them. It sounded so much like Tygra’s own voice when he was a youth. “Welcome back.”

Tygra turned around and inclined his head in greeting to the oldest of his sons. 

Chandra was a tall cub, already reaching six feet of height in his late teens, with a time enough left to grow a few more inches. His shoulders were thick with muscle, hands wide and skilled. Apart from a short braid hanging over his left shoulder, he was a perfect copy of his father - colours and stripes, and facial features included. He was smart and strong, and Tygra never called him ‘son’.

Chandra never called him ‘father’. 

A long time ago Tygra had resigned himself to never having a proper relationship with the cub. He was too young when Chandra was... born, too broken; the sight of a child with his face scared him out of his mind. Ten years later Tygra still didn’t know how to close the rift that his lack of care had caused, they both just allowed these wounds to scar without healing, forcefully pulled flesh over them and pretended they don’t hurt. The tigers were anything, if not adaptable.

“It’s good to see you back and in good health.” The cub said as his eyes ran over his sire’s body in silent estimation. He ignored the eyepatch completely, already made aware of this injury by the ship’s medics, assuming that if the King didn’t mind it, it wasn’t worth the attention.  

“It’s good to be back,” Tygra said tiredly and briefly rested his hand on the youth’s shoulder. They didn’t touch often, but then again, they didn’t have to. “I trust you have kept a hand on the matters here?”

Where he couldn’t give Chandra his love, he could still show him appreciation and respect, and they both knew it. The cub relished in responsibilities bestowed upon him and strived to meet all the expectations an heir to the throne had to bear. 

If there was one good thing that came from all this horrific mess, it was the fact that his children were strong. That they've adapted to the strange life they were cursed to live with little difficulty and in some way understood all the ways in which their parents were broken. For all the unnatural factors that had hand in their creation, Tygra's heirs were a gift. Even the ones that were not... perfect. 

“Everything  _ is  _ in order,” Tygra more stated than asked, entering his chamber, the cub following him into the baths at the unspoken signal. 

“Yes, sire.”

Two attendants, one female and one male, were waiting on him and sprang into motion as soon as the King nodded to them that it’s okay to touch him. Tygra lifted his arms and allowed them to undress him from the armour and the uniform, and the underclothes. It felt good to be out of the stiff fabric at the very last. His rooms at the battle station were as spacious as the conditions allowed, but there was no space for luxuries and certainly not servants. 

Somewhere deep inside he was disgusted with himself for the way he so quickly got used to the shallows of the ruler’s life. From the youngest years he was taught by all his teachers to be honourable and self-sufficient. That there was a place for being catered to, of course, but that there was also a line one should not cross. As far as he could remember his father had never allowed anyone to bathe him.

Well, his father hasn't been stuck on a space station for three months straight, gathering grime and injuries, sometimes running for three days without a bit of sleep, sustained on tasteless rations and stale water. Tygra has. 

After that, having someone's soft hands wash his hair and take care of his clothes didn't seem like a luxury at all. It felt like he’s earned it. It was a bit of care that he wouldn't get anywhere else. Not anymore. 

And his two personal monkeys were skilled in their tasks. The female joined him in the water; a pool of warm liquid relaxed Tygra’s muscles, the female’s soft hands brushing through his fur speed up the process even more. Her face bore a focused expression, but there was a playful spark in her dark eyes - a mark of one who knew that she could get away with a lot. And Tygra usually let her. He tried to be a merciful, kind ruler; he tried to appreciate the good servants and reward their dedication. That’s what his father would have wanted of him.  

It didn't hurt at all that the female was quite nice looking for a furless monkey; with her long black hair, healthy brown skin and rich curves that strained the thin cotton tunic she wore in the water - was she a cat, she would tick all his boxes. The male was also well made, only his skin was pale and hair almost white, braided back to fall down to mid-back. 

Tygra  _ did _ appreciate the trouble the pale tribe had to go through to find a tribute that would be physically resilient and yet shaped gently enough to not awaken the King’s more destructive urges. Otherwise the boy would be dead within a month - Tygra’s alpha instincts, looking for a challenge in the monkey’s every move and gesture, would easily cloud his mind and cost him a valuable asset. 

He was not like he was before, when he was a cub. Maybe it was the war that has changed him, maybe it was a constant threat that hung over the heads of his family that he could not extinguish. Or maybe it was living amongst so many species that were not his own, forced to switch between frequencies of their own instincts. It made him short tempered, made him look for enemies where there were none. 

It made him cold and remorseless a long time ago. 

That’s why it was the girl that dared to touch him now, safe in her vulnerability. The boy stayed clear of him, busying himself with picking up the armour. Chandra’s long look was enough to send him out of the baths entirely. 

_ Interesting _ , Tygra noted for later. He moved forward in water to give the servant space to wash his back and then all his attention was directed at the cub. 

“Siberius and Siberis are almost ready for their coming of age hunt,” Chandra wasted no time before filling him in. “They wanted you to witness it, sire, so we waited for a date that would be convenient for you.”

Tygra felt a familiar feeling trying to crawl its way up from his stomach, but stopped it halfway with experienced ease. It was a childish reaction, he had no time for it. The twins were his children and he consciously accepted them as such years ago.

“That’s fine,” he said instead. “I don’t imagine that they will call me back soon.” He and his fleet had cleared the quadrant sufficiently, there was very little left there that could attack the settlers Mum-Rah destined for the rebuilding of the scorched planet. “Of course, you have everything prepared?” 

“Yes, sire.”

His oldest, so efficient. 

“Then I’ll give you the date tomorrow, after I’ve had some rest.” The female’s gentle fingers kept running along his shoulders now, pressing  _ just so _ in places that needed it most. Tygra hummed low in his throat with appreciation and from the corner of his eye saw her smile. It took some time, but his two monkeys learned the ways of the cats. “Now, Tyrius’ training, tell me about it. When I left his instructor was full of praise, but I’m not sure about the spear being the right choice.”

No, his third son didn’t seem patient enough for a spear, at least from what Tygra saw of him on a few rare occasions. 

“You’re right, sire.” Chandra smiled, wonder clear in his eyes. 

Tygra was hard pressed to pinpoint what it was about him that the cub has found worthy of admiration, but was thankful for it anyway. Having an heir that resented him would be… counterproductive. 

“Tyrius found himself more suited to direct-contact tactics. Instructors are currently trying out different combinations of swords and shields, but he is happiest with his knuckles bare.”

“A brawler, very well.” Tygra nodded in approval, not surprised. Tyrius always took more after his other parent than him, after all. “Lyris?”

A long suffering sigh followed. “Likewise.” Chandra was young, at his age patience was a precious resource and his little sister was a trying child. “Though she is not as eager to learn, as the others.”

Tygra felt a bit bad for chuckling at the cub’s exasperation, but not too much. If anything, his children were entertaining in their differences. 

“She’ll be fine,” he mused. “She’ll not see a battlefield in her life if I can help it, and even if, her size should be enough to protect her.”

Because, what could attack them on Thundera? Rats? Lizards? The furless monkeys that considered them gods? No, there was nothing strong enough to threaten his rule and his family, he’s been promised that and it became true. His children would never see real wars, especially not his daughters. 

“Anything else?” 

The lengthening pause after his question made Tygra turn around in the bath and look at his cub with narrowed eyes. Chandra’s face was serious and drawn all of a sudden, and a knot of worry started to firm in the king’s stomach. There was still one child of his unaccounted for and the last member of his family unmentioned. 

Sudden fear gripped Tygra by the throat. No, if something happened to his brother, the children would tell him, he would be informed! He would know at the station… unless Mum-Rah’s spies kept the message from reaching him, kept him focused on his task. 

No, that was not...out of the two of them, there was only one choice. Only one.

“Yasimon got worse three weeks ago,” Chandra’s voice was quiet, his eyes lowered and shoulders slumping. “The medics… couldn’t help her anymore.” 

Gods. 

A wave of relief broke over the spike of shame for even feeling it, but he couldn't help it. He’d rather it be her. If there was a choice between them two… he knew his choice, always had. It was the same choice that put the crown on his head and sold his soul to a monster. 

That didn’t mean, however, that he didn’t feel pain at the news. And anger. Mostly anger. Yasimon was his third daughter, his youngest. Only a baby when he left, barely walking. The first one they’ve been allowed to get this young… even if she was not exactly  _ right _ , Tygra allowed himself to  _ hope  _ for the first time in a long while. 

Chandra was silent, and why not, there was nothing to say. 

The female servant stopped touching him and it was just when she moved away that Tygra had realised that he’s growling. Fear in her eyes sobered him, made him grasp the control of his body back. He was too tired and worn out mentally and physically to deal with this piece of news calmly. He was too stressed… He was due to lash out at the slightest provocation. And the girl knew this. 

A gesture from his son sent her scrambling away.

“ _ Simmu! _ ” Tygra barked out when they were alone. “Get Simmu!”

“Sire, you are tired…”

“Bring me your brother, now!”

He rarely raised his voice at the cubs, at least not anymore. It always made them flinch from him and lower their eyes, and it always made him wonder how much of their deference to him was due to genuine familial bonds, and how much was thanks to genetic engineering that brought them into this world. It was downright eerie that none of the seven had ever attempted to rebel... But that possibility was enough to drive him insane, so he tried to let it lie with all his might. 

“Sire, I can’t bring him, at the moment he’s with Father.”

The angry growl cut off before it began for good.

“That's… “ That changed things. Tygra took a deep breath and released it slowly. That was not unexpected, all in all. “Let him stay there,” he sighed, tiredly rubbing his one healthy eye. It was a long day. “And get some sleep yourself.” He looked at the cub. “I will see you all tomorrow. Make sure that all your siblings find their way to the breakfast table.” 

“Sire,” quiet voice answered. “May I suggest… Father is not well, rainy season hasn’t been kind to him so far. Can we reschedule the meeting to lunch, if that’s alright with you?”

Sneaky little bugger. Already trying to take over the throne, huh? Probably too worried about his sire’s state, trying to wrangle him a few more hours of sleep Tygra would not allow himself to have otherwise. 

“Sometimes I wonder where your wits came from,” he grumbled good naturedly, trying to ignore the way the youth froze for a second at the edge of the pool. 

He climbed out, reaching for the towels as if nothing out of ordinary has been said. Usually they didn't discuss… this. Tygra tried not to even think about it. But from time to time he was simply too worn out to pretend that he’s not curious. “Neither I nor your father have enough tact between the two of us to fill a thimble, and yet here you are, smooth as cream.”

“Sire I…”

“Then there’s Simmu…” Another long sigh. He ignored the robe, instead tying the towel around his waist, eager to get to bed. “Well, at least the other four are as dumb as sacks of flour.”

“Sire, that’s…!” A note of indignation in the cub’s voice, finally. His ears twitched back, nose wrinkling, fur bristling. Tygra approved, filial love was necessary in their monster of a family. “They’re not...”

“I am not saying that they’re faulty in any way,” the King finally smiled at his heir. It was a tired and sour smile, but it was there. “But it’s easier to deal with stupid cubs than the two of you.”

Let him take it however he wanted, as a compliment or an admonishment, let him work it out on his own. For a second Tygra had an urge to reach out and ruffle the youth’s mane affectionately, but it passed quickly. He didn’t trust himself to touch Chandra when the cub was small and they’ve kept it up as the years passed. It would seem like a betrayal, somehow, to break that habit now of all times, when his heir was nearly a grown up, to start treating him like the others. They didn’t have much between them, but that unspoken respect of their mutual limits was important. 

“Go to bed, Chandra,” Tygra deemed the conversation closed. “I will meet you all at lunch tomorrow.” 

The youth stood in front of him for a few seconds, seemingly unsure, but finally his fur smoothed and his expression followed suit. One careful breath and he bowed his head before turning on his heel and leaving. 

 

* * *

 

His bedroom was spacious and luxurious. It wasn’t the one that used to belong to his parents - before - no, that one had too many memories tied to it for him to sleep well in the confines of its walls. That one he gave to his brother, along with every bit of comfort he could scrounge up from the castle before it was rebuilt around the central suite. 

His new subjects had different needs than the old ones and he had to adapt his surroundings at least in part - otherwise he would have to rely on rats and lizards for servants, and that was simply not worth consideration. His naked monkeys were much more pleasant and - more afraid. Less likely to stab him in the back when he was sleeping. But they needed stairs and elevators, and safety to perform their duties to the best of their abilities. 

The decision to allow these concessions wasn’t a bad one, as it turned out, the monkeys were quite skilled at creating comfortable spaces. 

Tygra stretched, muscles relaxed by the bath, tiredness pulling him towards the soft bed strewn with soft furs and fluffy pillows. He stopped, however, two steps from the door, hackles raising instinctively when he realised that he wasn’t alone. There was someone waiting on him. 

The human male stood demurely by the side of the bed, head bowed, eyes lowered - his whole posture screamed ‘submission’. He was taught well. 

Tygra stopped in the doorway and considered getting angry about Chandra’s damn presumption. Or was it Simmu? Either of the cubs could do this, both were entirely too deeply invested in meddling. But, really, getting angry wasn’t worth it, was it? What the hell, after the latest news he could use some exercise to tire him out enough to fall asleep. 

He stalked towards the human, trying to make his moves as unthreatening as possible in the current situation - if he remembered well, this monkey hasn’t been with them for long, he was still fidgety and prone to running. And if he started to run now, it wouldn't end well. 

“My Lord,” the words were a bit slurred and unsure, but the male did manage to learn their language well. “What would you…”

Tygra didn't waste time on pleasantries. He shucked the towel tied around his waist to the floor with a careless flick of a wrist and grasped the servant by the hips, pulling him in. He enjoyed the gasp when he pushed his nose against the boy’s pulse point - and it never stopped feeling strange, to meet skin that was this bare and thin. But, in the end, it wasn’t much of a deterrent, not when it caused such strong reactions when Tygra applied his rough tongue to the delicate skin’s most sensitive parts.

“My Lord…” 

The servant kept his hands to himself, even when he was hoisted up by his hips above the floor and against the wall, a position which gave Tygra much better access and less of a crick in the neck. That show of effortless strength elicited another breathy gasp and the clawless human hands smacked the wall when rough tongue dragged over one pert nipple - a lesson well learnt, it deserved a reward. Human voice cords could not purr or rumble, but the noises they could produce were still acceptable when Tygra pulled at the nub trapped between his teeth. 

Eh, female humans had more of a chest, flesh there softer, he preferred to fill his mouth with it. The boy, although nicely sculpted, didn't have much to gnaw on and his voice was much lower than a female’s. Still, his reactions were adequate and, most importantly, honest. The scent of his waking arousal was telling, even before Tygra stepped closer and allowed his hip to brush between the servant’s legs, feeling the flesh there straining slowly against the thin cloth wrapped around his waist. That was good, it was harder to tell with the females without outright slipping his fingers inside to feel the slick or lack of thereof, because the scent of fertility was apparently not homogeneous with desire. A situation so unlike the female cats. 

One had to learn to compromise as a King. The females were softer, but the males easier. And this one was especially so, already trying to stifle a moan with only that one press against his flesh, shivering in Tygra’s grip, just little twitches, but oh so telling. Droplets of sweat appearing on his warming skin along with a dark flush of excitement on his cheeks and chest.  All these little things coming together to awaken the King’s own desire from slumber. 

To get hard over a hairless monkey, really, a decade ago he’d feel embarrassed on his behalf. But beggars can’t be choosers and it was still a better choice than fucking a lizard or… or nothing. 

He’d learned to do with what he’s got. 

“Boy…” Tygra purred into the soft place under the human's chin. 

“Y… yes… m’lord…” the servant sounded appropriately breathless as he tipped his head further back in a grand show of submission.

“I intend to fuck you.”

This was as much of a warning as he could give him. If the boy wasn’t ready, this was the moment to offer something else or get away. 

“I’m… yes,” the servant gasped when a wide, calloused hand palmed his firm thigh, pushing at the fabric wrap until it bunched in the crook of his hip. “Yes I can… I’m ready… for you…”

Oh, dammit. His sons will get the scolding over breakfast, that’s for sure. To assume so, to play him so easily. 

Tygra let the human down on the floor and then waited a moment for the little thing to find his feet. “On your knees, then.” He rumbled. “You know what to do.”

The boy nodded, a bit shakily, and, eyes obviously averted form his King’s crotch, went to kneel on the carpet by the bed. The servants knew that Tygra didn't like to fuck on the bed itself - it was too soft, there was no good leverage to be found, amongst other things. And the scents it held on to afterwards were not conducive to sleeping. 

He watched the human kneel and then lower himself on his hands. His body looked even better in this position: skin pulled taut, thick braid of pale hair slipping over one shoulder, baring his neck. The boy knew what was expected of him, they did it once already, but his spine was curled protectively and his hands were fisted tightly into the long threads of the carpet. Was he nervous? Scared? That wouldn't do. 

With a deep rumble starting on the bottom of his chest, Tygra followed the human, kneeling behind him - noticing the way the servant tensed when covered by his shadow. It was annoying and unnecessary, confusing his instincts. It was frustrating how, from time to time, his monkeys didn't trust the signals they were receiving from their lords. 

“There,” he said, stroking a gentle hand down the boy’s back, over his hip, down his leg, curling his fingers until they rested on the inside of the trembling thigh. “What is your name?” He asked, slowly pulling that leg to the side. 

The human had to readjust his position, in effect arching his back invitingly. “K-Kay, m’lord…” he answered in a shaky voice. 

“Kay,” Tygra repeated, filing it up for the future reference. “I did it with you once already, yes?” He pushed at the boy’s other leg.

“Yes, m’lord...”

“What’s the issue, then?” he asked, moving closer until his chest pushed against the human’s back. He leaned on one hand and placed the other on the boy’s navel to keep him in position when it seemed that he wants to curl back down. “Did I damage you?”

“N...no, m’lord.”

He didn't stop the rumbling. “Did I hurt you?”

There was a minute hitch in the servant’s breathing. “No… no, m’lord…”

This was making him even harder, he realised. The reluctant fear of a male partner that against it all was still going to let him. 

“Then?”

The thin waist covering was easy enough to remove, no more than a shawl that needed only a slight pull to undo. The human reacted with a shiver as it slid down his bare skin and then once more, stronger, when the thick weight of his King’s cock rested between his cheeks. 

Hm, it was slick in there. “You’re prepared for me,” Tygra didn't bother to hide the pleased surprise in his voice. 

“...yes.”

“Then what’s else to it?” He allowed an edge of impatience to show, too. 

“M… m’lord is…” He pushed experimentally, sliding his hardness into the slippery cradle of the firm flesh and the boy’s voice hitched. “M’lord is… impressive… I…”

Oh, huh, if that didn't go straight to his head. 

“You mean big,” he deadpanned, pushing once more, unable to stop. “But you can take it, we already know that.” 

It was harder to speak now, desire pushing his instincts to the forefront, but he stalled. Tygra prided himself on being as considerate to his servants as he could be in the heat of the moment. 

“I…”

“Now, shush, I will go slow.” He bent his elbows, covering the human more fully, lips pulling back and eyes on the vulnerable neck framed by the wisps of pale hair. Did he bite him when they did it previously? No, there were no scars. “Bow your head and quiet now.”

It wasn’t necessary to reassure his servants like that, but Kay was one of his two favourites and it was worth it when he fully sunk his cock in the soft, hot flesh. A minute resistance only, then it yielded for him easily and he pressed on until he could go no further. It never stopped to impress him how these creatures, so much smaller than the cats, could still manage to take him in with such ease. 

Kay arched underneath him, mouth open, but no voice coming, hands lifting up for a second, before they dropped back again when the boy felt sharp teeth closing on the back of his neck, pulling the skin taut around his throat for a moment. 

One good thing about these monkeys - unlike the cats, they didn't fight during sex. There was no need to wrestle, to assess the partner, to match himself against their passion-driven rage. The humans just - took it. Quite gracefully, actually. This one was no different. Quietly mewling to himself, he adjusted his legs once more and took his King in with no protest. Tygra was glad, he was beyond stopping now, beyond caring for pleasantries when his member was engulfed by the tight heat and his senses were filled with the enticing scent of a willing body under his. 

The human moaned and whimpered when his King started to thrust into him with vigour, his body overtaken by shivers and flinches, struggling to stay up when a superior force kept bearing down on it. Fingers tight on the carpet, Kay did his best to stay in place for his King, to catch his thrusts and give him pleasure. It didn't go unappreciated, not at all, the angle of the thrusts changed subtly, the new position meant to share the pleasure at least a little.   

While Tygra’s preference always laid with the females, fucking males had its own flavour. It went straight to his ancestral hindbrain, all the way down to the hunter’s instincts buried under the veneer of refinement that the evolution threw over them. Shali was sweet and inviting, her softness calmed him down, her stark femaleness was enough to make him compose himself. With the boy, however, it was… therapeutic. 

To bow him over and cage him within his own limbs, to make him pliant and obedient with nothing else than a word, a command, to have another male submissive to that degree - it felt good. It felt good not to have to fight and present his status all the time, but the slight edge of doubt that accompanied fucking a male added a dash of spice to the mix. Kay didn't have to be so obedient - even though he was a weaker creature, he didn't  _ have to _ listen so easily, some species  - cats included - would never lower themselves so. But the fact that the human did earned him nothing, but approval form his King. 

It allowed Tygra to relax and open up his senses, to take in everything - from the heat and stifling pressure around his cock, to the softness of the skin underneath his lips, the scent of it - milky and pleasant. The back of the boy’s neck soon grew hot too, wet from sweat and Tygra’s attention, darkening from the swipes of the rough tongue. The voice of the little thing also changed, the pitch went higher every time the cock pushed in, to lower when it was dragged out of the slick hole that clung to it desperately, as if too keep it inside. 

_ Yes, not bad at all, this one, I should fuck him more often, _ the King thought, burying his nose in the tangle of pale hair, breathing in with his eyes closed, imaging briefly that it’s another cat he’s mounting, that it would be fine to close his teeth over the back of their neck like his instincts urged him to. This had to be enough, though, the human would never survive a bite so severe. 

To distract himself, he nuzzled behind Kay’s ear, such small and silly thing, unable to twist around to escape the tickling breaths even as the boy whimpered and fought not to turn his head away. It was sensitive too, because the whimpers had nothing of displeasure in them and, curiously, the grip on Tygra’s cock tightened momentarily when he mouthed at the small appendage. Interesting. In a mood to explore, he licked down the boy’s jaw and at the side of his throat, eliciting another of these wonderful head tilts that had his balls tighten, that perfectly enticing submission. He rarely took Shali in this position, her breasts were too much of a temptation to force her on all fours like a cat, but Kay seemed to thrive there. 

Tygra closed his hand around the humans’ throat, marvelling at the ease with which he could practically encircle it whole with his fingers, purring at the chocked up gasps the boy made in reaction, at the way his back arched and his hips stuttered. Then he slid his hand lower, fingertips soft against the frail skin, tips of the claws worrying briefly at the nipples - smaller than the female’s, but tight and pert all the same. If it was possible to make them bigger, more plump, then it would be perfect. Maybe Simmu would know the way to make it so… maybe the scientists on the battle station could. 

Maybe if they put an infant to him, Kay’s body would adjust - like the lizards did?

But that was a thought for another time, now he had other things to distract him. Like the heat that awaited him when his hand slid lower, between the boy’s straining things, where his manhood strained in a completely different way. 

_ “M’lord…!” _

That was a nice sound, yes. Even if he didn't caress him  _ there _ , spreading his fingers around the base of the member without touching it, palm flat to the heaving stomach and one of the few furred places on the human’s body; feeling for the shivers and spasms of the muscles underneath, smoothing the tender lines of the thinnest skin on the inside of the hipjoints. He was a master of this creature, he was a King, he was not about to let it rut against him. The boy will come on his cock or not at all, and they both knew it.  Good thing that human males were built to accommodate that kind of a demand. 

“Sir...I…” It was a tearful sound, choked up and hesitant; it was exactly what Tygra wanted to hear. “Please...I…”

He nipped the boy on the shoulder - a swift, stinging reprimand for the way the unruly creature’s hips tilted to seek contact with his hand. 

“Do my sons fuck you often?” The King whispered into the small, ridiculous ear. “Is that why you’re so ready for me?”

“No…” Kay sobbed, bowing his head until his forehead rested on his bent hand. “No… _ no one _ … just m’lord...”

Oh, that cost the human his remaining support, the other hand folding down when Tygra bore down over the smaller body. So, only him, huh? Yes, that was nice to hear. He never told his cubs that they couldn't use his servants, but it was nice to know that he was respected enough for them not to try. 

“Good,” he purred and licked over the tiny bite-mark soothingly. “Let’s keep it this way.”

After everything he had to give up, it felt  _ good  _ to have some things for himself.  

“ _Yes…_ _yes…_ ”

He rumbled, pleased, wrapping himself tighter around the human, enjoying the way Kay folded easily into his embrace. The urge to bury his fangs in that pale skin was overwhelming, but not enough for Tygra to miss the way the boy bucked and gasped, voice turning into one prolonged moan interrupted only by shaky inhalations. 

It was good. He didn't expect to feel so good - not after the last months, not after the recent news, not with not-a-cat or Shali. His thrusts grew frantic, the flesh around him tightening in uneven spasms, the heat of it urging him on. 

Tygra felt his human’s climax down to his toes - the clench around his cock got almost painful, the sudden need for movement in the smaller body that was stopped by his embrace; a short and vicious fight against his restraining force that served only to fan the flames consuming the King higher. These choked, gasping, pleading sounds, almost words, in two languages, dissolving into an unnamed noise as he fucked the boy through it all. 

After so long with no willing bodies to sate his desires, Tygra expected his own climax to hit him hard and he wasn’t disappointed. His hips snapped forward for the last time, crushing into the human’s plush behind, burying him deep in the scalding heath as long spasms shook through him, from his groin to the tips of his ears. Eyes tightly closed, he’d only managed to keep the triumphant roar down, forcing it to dissolve into a throaty growl of deep satisfaction. ( _ Because that wouldn't do, it wasn’t his Queen he was fucking, not a proper mate, one had to keep up the appearances, especially in his position. _ )

And still, throughout it all a part of his brain stayed up, making sure that he didn't squeeze his human too hard, that his teeth stay away from the skin, that he doesn't hurt his servant with his superior strength. It cut the experience short, made it lacking in some sense - he couldn’t simply let go, as he could with a cat, some of his instincts will never be satiated in this way. 

But he’d resigned himself to that idea a long time ago, nowadays it was almost easy to adjust. 

The first thing he did after getting his breath back was to check on the boy; he relaxed his hold and let him slump to the floor in a boneless sprawl, a state that never seemed to amuse the King when it came to humans. His monkeys were easy to excite, but their sexual stamina was atrocious, especially males, with orgasms that passed within two indrawn breaths and the need for such long rest between the matings. How did they ever keep their females satisfied? Tygra was already feeling himself growing stiff again, his cock fitted snugly between the cradle of the boy’s asscheeks, now even wetter with oil, sweat and his seed. The pleasant tingle shot up his spine when he used the opportunity to rub himself against that slick grip a few times. He stopped when one too many presses had the boy whimper and curl up from overstimulation. Such weird creatures, these monkeys. 

Tygra remembered the first time he’d had sex with this one, how he - in a moment of care he’d spent on every new body-servant - tried to take care of the boy post-coitus. Shali always appreciated a tongue bath after exerting herself on his behalf, but Kay almost climbed a wall to get away from him. 

Knowing better, this time Tygra limited himself to a quick lookover, making sure that his servant was left intact and breathing. 

He was, good. Alive, if slightly dazed. 

A short nuzzle under his ear brought the boy back quite quickly. “You did well,” the King praised, licking the appendage for good measure. “I’m pleased.” 

“I’m glad… to serve...” a bit breathless, but legible. “Thank you… my lord…”

Good, improvement, this time he could even talk. 

Tygra pated the human on his back and got back on is feet, picking up his discarded towel on the way to the door, in search of another servant (there was always one close by when his sons decided to play on presumptions) that would help Kay get back to his quarters. Sometimes his monkeys were especially helpless - and the smile that curled his lips was all amusement, not self satisfaction. 

No not a bit of that.     

 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> There may be more chapters int he future, if I have good ideas for more sex.


End file.
